The procession was slow and somber, and no one would bring themselves to tears, but everyone wanted to.
Riza Hawkeye didn't like tears; they were weakness.
So of course, no one cried.
Her coffin was lowered precisely into the grave, an Amestrian flag draped just so over it. The pallbearers gave salutes, followed by everyone else who was in the military. Riza Hawkeye liked OCD-esque perfection.
A muscular man was barely able to keep himself from bawling all over the short black-haired man with glasses in front of him. Riza Hawkeye didn't like smothering.
That man's lip quivered as he adjusted his large spectacles. Lieutenant Hawkeye liked order.
A widow and her daughter stood beside him. The little girl was confused. This was the second time someone she knew was being buried....Her daddy still hadn't come back.
That wasn't right; How would Ms. Hawkeye do her work when she was under the dirt? Ms. Hawkeye liked her work.
Next to the little girl was a black and white husky mix, who looked sadly into the hole in the ground. He kept repeating motions. Sit-Shake-Other Paw-Down and then he'd bark happily, shake his tail, only to drop his ears again and try the same routine. It was like he was waiting for something.
The blonde man in front of the dog asked himself if the dog knew that doing his morning commands wouldn't bring her back. For once he had his cigarettes tucked away; Riza Hawkeye disliked smoking.
To the left of that man were two others, standing stiffly, a fat man with red hair and a tall, skinny man with white hair. They didn't flinch. Riza Hawkeye didn't like flinchers.
A few feet from those men stood two boys, but you couldn't tell that by looking at them. One stood tall, proudly, with a red coat flopping in the wind. The boy next to him was much taller, but instead the apron in front of him whipped around. His steel body echoed hollowly with the wind. They kept thier hands almost tacked to thier foreheads. Lieutenant Hawkeye liked the pecking order straight.
Behind them was a blonde who was trying her hardest to keep the tears in, but since she was overly emotional, they still welled at the corners of her eyes. She tried to remember how much she looked up to Ms. Hawkeye. Ms. Hawkeye would like that, right?
Possibly the saddest sight there, though, was the Colonel watching them drop dirt on to Lieutenant Hawkeye. He stared straight ahead, unblinking, unmoving, wanting so much to hear a certain voice float around him.
The Future Mrs. Riza Mustang would have liked him to do his paperwork. He dropped a silver ring next to her tombstone as everyone walked away.
"Sir. Another Obituary. Fill it out, please."
"Yes, Lieutenant Hawkeye." He pulled out a pen and signed it quietly.